Category Archives: Emotions

If you can’t say anything nice

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Scripture

Journal 2005.

In Matthew 23, Jesus lambasted the teachers of the Law and the Pharisees. Rude, in fact, according to the rules of polite conversation. I’d be shocked if someone spoke that way to another human being in public. I’ve never attended a church where this type of language was tolerated. Why was it okay for Jesus to be less than genteel? Because He knew their hearts? Because He’s God and He’s allowed to judge? I’m fascinated that He never spoke this way to the sinner, the downtrodden, the hurting, the repentant. Not even to all rulers or rich people. Only to those who were willfully blind, proud, arrogant, self-centered, and self-righteous.

Who or what would be a modern-day equivalent? A lesbian who is seeking truth and struggling would receive Christ’s compassion, whereas a militant, arrogant, in-your-face preacher would get yelled at.

It still rattles me that Jesus spoke this way (as did John the Baptist). Why? My Momma always taught me, “If you can’t say anything nice about a person, don’t say anything at all!” Jesus broke that rule.

But like an illusion, “Things are not always what they appear to be.” The religious leaders appeared to be white, pure. But inside, they were black. Jesus could see right through their illusion and tell it like it is. They were rotten on the inside.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean. In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” (Matthew 23:27-28 NIV)

“You snakes! You brood of vipers! How will you escape being condemned to hell?” (Matthew 23:33 NIV)

The Shame of Rebuke

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Scripture

Journal 2005.

It’s always bothered me that Jesus reprimanded His disciples. In Matthew 8:23-27 it was over their fear of the storm on the sea. Another time over their lack of understanding. In the Garden of Gethsemane, it was for succumbing to sleep. He sounds impatient, and impatience isn’t a fruit of the Spirit.

Perhaps it’s because I identify strongly with the disciples, and I feel the sting of the rebuke on my cheek. The God of the universe claims to understand my frailty because He came to earth to experience it . . . and now I get smacked for it. I feel their shame.

I remember a teacher’s rebuke. Blindsided. I didn’t know I’d done something wrong.

When you choose to wrong someone deliberately, you deserve rebuke. But when the act is mere childishness, a misunderstanding, it feels unjust to have harsh words aimed at you. God deals with children differently than He does adults. I understand that. Would it sting worse to get rebuked as an adult? “Scolded” is a child’s word. That’s what it feels like to me. Like He’s treating them like children.

If a rebuke is unjustified, it’s the adult’s trigger. If I feel anger, revenge, or shame, that’s my issue. If the rebuke is justified, and it’s done in love, it’s discipline and for my good. It has always FELT to me like Jesus was triggered. But that’s impossible because it implies (by my definition) that He believes a lie somewhere.

Conclusion: I don’t like to think that Jesus was angry or even irritated at His disciples (that’s how grownups sometimes get when they discipline children). I think He was discipling, disciplining, and training. In the boat incident, He instructed them to go by way of the sea. I suspect He knew there was a storm coming, and He wanted to test them. At best, he followed the Father’s prompting to travel this route.

Matthew Henry states, “He slept at this time to try the faith of His disciples.” Maybe. Or perhaps His body was simply bone weary from all the ministry. In any case, I give the disciples credit for looking to Jesus as the source of their salvation. “Lord, save us.”

He asks, “Why are you fearful?” Does He answer His own question when He responds, “You have so little faith”?

I want to jump up and defend the disciples. Storms are fearful things! And who among them had the power or faith to rebuke the sea? None of them. Not I. Were they guilty of sin? Or of mere human frailty? Yes, I have weak faith as well.

While in the Garden, Jesus said, “Couldn’t you stay awake and watch for an hour?” (Matthew 26:40). It felt like a scolding and that He was unaware of and insensitive to their needs. But today I see it differently. It’s like He warned them to stay on the safe side of the fence, but they kept crawling over it. Finally, He put barbed wire on the top so they got the point (pun intended)—your obedience could be a matter of life and death. There’s danger on the other side. Don’t you see it? It was less a scolding and more a warning, an urging—look out! Your only weapon is prayer. The Evil One is lurking about. Be ready. Prepare for the attack. But they were unaware of the danger. And though they were willing intellectually to obey, their bodies were their masters.

I am God’s child, and I accept His rebuke if I go astray. But shame is not from Him.

On the Sea of Galilee

Lessons from Jeremiah 2

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Scripture

I wish I could sketch Jeremiah’s word pictures. With strong imagery, he describes the marriage relationship between God and Israel. He betrothed her in Egypt, married her at Sinai, and gave her fruitful land as a wedding gift. But Israel spurned her Lover’s gift as well as her Lover.

God is appalled, horrified sad, and rightly angry. He’s never seen anything like it. “Has a nation ever changed its gods (even though they are not gods),” He said. They have committed two evils: 1) “They have forsaken Me, the fountain of living waters,” and 2) “They have hewn for themselves broken cisterns that can’t hold water.” What an amazing visual! He gave them something more special than the warm springs at Yankari Game Reserve, and they are playing in empty rain barrels with holes in them.

And then Jeremiah uses more visuals:

  • I broke your bond and yoke to free you, but you shattered and snapped the bonds with Me.
  • I planted you, a choice vine, wholly of pure seed. But you turned into degenerate shoots of wild vine.
  • You wash yourself with much soap, yet your guilt and iniquity are still on you. You’re spotted, dirty and stained.
  • You’re like a female camel or donkey in heat! (Lots of lovers).

The images go on and on. It strikes me that God experienced pain, rejection, and abandonment long before Jesus experienced it on earth.

Jeremiah is preaching to God’s lover who forsook Him. This is Israel’s story. What is mine?

Lessons from Jeremiah 1

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Scripture

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations. Jeremiah 1:5 (NIV)

Jeremiah was a Preacher’s Kid (his father was a priest), and God spoke directly to him. Pretty heady stuff when you do big things for God . . . until you realize it is God’s doing all along. God may choose (Moses, David, Samson, Jonah, or me), but we have a choice how we’ll respond (argument, submission, courage, rebellion).

What excuses do I make for not following God’s command? She’s too hard to love; he won’t listen; I can’t because; I don’t know how; I don’t have time; I don’t have the money. . .

Fear of the people’s response was Jeremiah’s driving objection. God’s answer? “Don’t be afraid because I AM with you.”

Then God touched his mouth and said, “Behold I have put My words in your mouth.” How cool is that! This book is Jeremiah’s story, his testimony. God will not respond to everyone the same way. He’s too creative for that. But we can glean principles from Jeremiah’s life like: the antidote to fear is experiencing God’s presence.

Responsibility

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2005

I have a long list of worries I need to shed NOW! The word responsibility is a balloon banner over my head with strings attached to each of my concerns. With hands cramping from their tight grip, occasionally one string escapes my grasp, and I scramble to grab it without letting go of the others. If I let them all go, does this mean I’m not a responsible person?

But near burnout, I wish I could let them all go. I want to be a kid again where I’m free to explore, and my meals miraculously appear on the table, and play is my most serious activity.

Suddenly the wind catches the balloons, and up, up, up, into the air I go. But now I’m in trouble if let go. My muscles are burning. I want off this ride!

“Look up,” says Jesus. I see He’s holding the responsibility banner, and I’m on a puppet stage. He’s responsible for the “responsible.” That takes the pressure off decision-making, but I’m still not satisfied. He created me with free will, and I don’t want to be a puppet. I don’t want His job as director of the play, nor can I be in the audience. What am I supposed to do?

“Let go of the strings,” He says. Willing to surrender at last, I unclench my fists and drop my arms. I do not fall. I do not collapse. I let go of worry and make life-giving choices.

Rest. Peace.

Thanks to my son-in-law Josh for the graphic.

Word vs. Spirit

Posted on by under Emotions, God, Scripture

Journal 2005

As I study the passages in the Word about the Holy Spirit, I wonder where the balance is between study and experience. My Bible training was all academic: interpretation, dissection, exegesis. If I only have the written Word and no Holy Spirit inside to interpret them, I simply have a collection of symbols on a page, lifeless and meaningless. But if I didn’t have the written Word, how would I know what my experience meant? But Jesus IS the Word—the Living Word. He brings the symbols to life and gives them meaning. I need both.

I wonder why God chose to use words to communicate with us. Why not comic-book pictures? Or is the world itself and its experience a visual? A picture would not be reproducible in certain countries or eras. But words endure, can be passed down through the generations. Can be heard. But for those who are visual . . .  I guess God gives each of us the visuals in our minds that meet our needs the best. But then, so do words.

A 2023 Update. After praying with people for the past 22 years, I’ve come to realize how important both words and visuals are. Clients will say, “I know the truth in my head, but I don’t feel it in my heart.” What they are describing is left-brain (words, logic) vs. right-brain (pictures, emotion). Our experience comes first, followed by interpretation of the event. When I read Scripture, I’m engaging my left brain. When the Holy Spirit speaks directly to my heart (emotions), I experience the truth and it gets correctly interpreted.

Natural Disasters (and lots of bad news)

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions

From my 2005 Journal.

What does one do with all the stories of horror and sadness in the news? It it’s not war, it’s an Asian tsunami, a Florida hurricane, or tornadoes in Indiana on the heels of earthquakes in Pakistan. Murder, rape, and evil. The needs are overwhelming. And then there are the spiritual needs of a lost world. How do I balance getting information and processing it without emotional overload or feeling blasé? If it’s someone else’s problem, I shrug and say, “That’s interesting, but glad it doesn’t affect me.” But if it’s MY child that dies in the disaster, it’s suddenly too close to home.

I wonder what makes people rush to help. Some feel called and become trained to respond to disasters. Is there something wrong with me that I don’t feel the tug to “do something, anything” or is it merely an absence of triggers? I don’t want to be jerked around by emotionalism or false guilt that weighs on me like a shroud. My resources are limited. It’s impossible to give to every cause—and there are so many good ones!

I’m standing at the edge of a pit watching Stephen being stoned. I cannot prevent his demise. If I try to rush to his aid, I’ll perish as well—the mob is too large for one person to control. What I can do is search for the one or two people who are hesitant, who don’t really want to be there. Who can I persuade to walk away and listen to God? I cannot respond to all the disasters and needs in the world, but I can minister to the few on my path.

On a side note, I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon: when people offer aid for a disaster, those who have not been treated in like kind are sometimes jealous. For example, after 9-11, victims from another terrorist bombing lamented that America didn’t send dollars to generously help THEM. When Hurricane Katrina struck Mississippi, and people in my city reached out to help the displaced citizens, locals who needed the same kind of care and concern felt ignored. What makes us respond to a disaster with an outpouring of generosity, but we don’t reach out to meet the routine needs of our community?

My mother had great compassion for sick people. It made her a good nurse. One day we witnessed a motorcycle accident in front of us. Watching my mother’s concern and compassion mixed itself in my heart with worry—like an emotional bow string triangulated between the boy, my mother, and me.

Am I willing for the music to stop? For the vibration in my soul to cease? Will I become emotionless, calloused, if I give up the strings?

“No, the song will only become sweeter,” says Jesus. And so, I unloose the worry string, tie a balloon on the end, and release it skyward. My focus now shifts to meeting others’ needs instead of mine.

A 2023 Update. I glanced at the news of the recent earthquake in Turkey, said a quick prayer for the victims and rescuers, and moved on to the ministry in front of me, focusing on what I could do, rather than on what I couldn’t.

Photo by Franklin Peu00f1a Gutierrez on Pexels.com

Judgment or Discernment?

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Peace

Journal 2005

I’ve been working through how to recognize the difference between God’s standard and men’s standard of conduct. For example, I came out of a system that taught it was a sin for a woman to wear pants, and though I threw that false belief out years ago, I wonder about wearing skimpy clothing. A judgmental attitude (which I’m prone to have) is a self-righteous attitude about how others conduct themselves—usually because I don’t do it myself. And often the item or “sin” in question reflects a tradition of man rather than breaking a direct command of Scripture. Discernment, on the other hand, involves understanding the intent of a command in Scripture and applying it to myself.

One’s choice of dress falls on a continuum: from a Middle Eastern burka all the way to public nudity. What’s modest for one culture may be immoral for another.* I’m sure my upbringing in an African village impacts my confusion. Does God’s Word dictate standards of dress, or does God look only on the heart? (I can dress like a Puritan and not have a pure heart.) The other end of the continuum is harder for me to gauge. At what point does my dress choice cross into sin? Can the discussion focus on the amount of material, or should the focus be 100% on the heart?

Or what about my media viewing choices? Is there a point at which what I watch becomes sin? Or is it all about the condition of the heart? I cannot judge another’s motives, but personally, I’d prefer wholesome rather than on-the-edge. Better to hug the mountain side than the cliff side in these gray areas.

*Funny story from Stormy Omartian’s book The Power of the Praying Woman. Seems an offended missionary decided he should supply the topless natives with t-shirts. The next day the ladies showed up at church proudly wearing their new garb—with holes cut out for their breasts (so they could nurse of course). Made perfect sense to me!

2023 Update. I must have worked through these questions sufficiently as I have no emotion today when the subject comes up. I know now that I am not responsible for anyone’s heart but my own, and I can trust God to convict me when needed and guide me into all truth.

The Power of Story

Posted on by under Emotions, Inner Healing, Scripture

From my 2005 Journal.

When a person is ready to face his pain, it’s like giving a thirsty man a drink. But when there’s resistance, you can stand there all day with the cup in your hand, and he won’t reach out to take it. Telling a story sometimes helps when I’m trying to persuade someone to seek healing for emotional wounds.

I have also used stories in an inner healing prayer session with a client with DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder). When there’s resistance, a story can soften the bud and open the flower.

The disciples asked Jesus why He spoke in parables.

He replied, “You’ve been given insight into God’s kingdom. You know how it works. Not everybody has this gift, this insight; it hasn’t been given to them. Whenever someone has a ready heart for this, the insights and understandings flow freely. But if there is no readiness, any trace of receptivity soon disappears. That’s why I tell stories: to create readiness, to nudge the people toward receptive insight. In their present state they can stare till doomsday and not see it, listen till they’re blue in the face and not get it. Matthew 13:11-13 (The Message)

Jesus’ solution (according to The Message) was to tell stories. Those who wanted to hear truth “got it.” Those who didn’t, well, maybe it piqued their curiosity a little. In any case, it got their attention and got them to listen. Which part of the sermon do we remember the longest? The story of course! Even a daydreaming child in the pew will sit up and take notice when a story is told.

While processing some grief issues this week over another person’s unreceptive heart, God told me to write a story to present to this person to see if it would open a discussion. And it did.

Once upon a time…

Photo by Suzy Hazelwood on Pexels.com

Should You Ever Break a Vow?

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing, Scripture

From my 2009 Journal.

The Bible instructs us to keep our vows; however, some vows are unhealthy and must be broken “I’ll never do that again!” or “I’ll build a wall to protect my heart” can be detrimental to our healing journey.

When I was in junior high, my ambition was to become a missionary nurse—just like my mom. But one day, one of my teachers whom I highly respected asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. When I told him, he replied, “Well, you should consider becoming a doctor instead. You have good enough grades.”

To please my teacher, for the next six years I informed everyone I was going to become a missionary doctor, and I began to look into med schools. Very quickly, I realized I really had no passion or even the slightest interest in studying the medical field. And so I floundered, trying to figure out who I was. Consequently, I made a vow never to become a counselor. I did not want to be responsible for guiding someone incorrectly in their life choices. How ironic that I am now pursuing a Master’s in Pastoral Counseling!

Today I read:

Personally I am satisfied about you, my brethren, that you yourselves are rich in goodness, amply filled with all [spiritual] knowledge and competent to admonish and counsel and instruct one another also. (Romans 15:14 Amp, Emphasis added):

Note the order:

  1. First comes goodness
  2. Then comes knowledge
  3. Next competency
  4. And finally comes the act of counseling.

Character precedes knowledge. Practice comes before proficiency. I have no business counseling others if I don’t begin with character; and without training, counseling others can be dangerous. In Job 38:2 God asks, “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” I wonder if I’ll make a good counselor?

A 2023 Update. Technically, I kept my vow since I became in inner healing prayer minister instead of a counselor. However, breaking that vow would have been acceptable as it was made from a place of emotion and wrong motives. Better not to make an unhealthy vow or promise than to have to break it later.

My mother, Martha Seger